Remember Me
by Keye
Summary: Rating for blood and injuries. When Connor Batten, an American auror moved to England, is severely injured on an assignment, his wife is called. Songfic.


A/N: These are characters from a text-based roleplaying game I'm involved in, and really, they'regreat characters.

_Remember me, remember me._

_Find myself all alone, in darkness without you,_

_No one can take me away, from what I must do._

_You know I'd give my life for you,_

_More than words can say._

_I've shown you how to love someone, _

_I know you'll find the way._

The darkness Connor sat in was perhaps worse because he was alone. The alley didn't have that primordial darkness that nearly every human being was afraid, of, but it didn't matter how complete the darkness was. His only company was the corpse of his opponent, a murderer that Connor had finally managed to track down and confront. He'd know ahead of time that the man only used magic to detain the people he intended to chop up, but that knowledge hadn't prepared him for his opponent's skill with blades and liking for extremely close contact in combat. Connor was bleeding from nearly a dozen places, and had at least three knives impaling vital organs. He wasn't an overly large man, either. To be honest, the only reason the attractive green-eyed, well built man with the long, blonde streaked brown hair hadn't coughed up his last painful lung full of air and given in to the sleep that tugged at the edges of his consciousness was simple. He couldn't bear the thought of leaving Deca, his wife, lover and most challenging opponent in every aspect of his life. She'd warned him not to come, but he'd gone after this man anyway, knowing that the next victim could be his dear Deca, or his sister. He'd risk death to prevent that. And Deca would survive his loss, she was strong.

_Say good bye, _

_Close your eyes,_

_Remember me._

_Walk away, _

_The sun we face,_

_Remember me._

_I live on somewhere in your heart,_

_You must believe,_

_Remember me._

Rushing around the house, he shook his head, closing his eyes and just stopping for a moment while he let Deca finish her ranting. She didn't want him leaving the house this time, only because she had a bad feeling about it. He couldn't accept her bad feeling. He'd come out of more scrapes than he could easily count, what would make this one any different? And in any case, he couldn't take the chance that this guy would get away and kill some other girl. He had a son and daughter now, a wife, a sister. He couldn't imagine losing any of them.

"Relax, darlin'. I'll be fine, I always am. And I'm always with you, you know that," he teased, smiling reassuringly as he mentioned their private joke. She'd always called him 'Apollo' and 'Sun God', and what good was a sun god if he wasn't looking down on her while she smiled up into the sunshine? It was a sweet notion, but that was all it was, and he knew it. He didn't want her worrying, but he wouldn't stay home for this one.

_No way I could change my mind,_

_I don't have the answers._

_If you could just see through my eyes,_

_You'd let go of your fears._

_And though I have to leave you now,_

_We're a part of each other._

_I miss your touch, you call my name,_

_I am with you forever._

Lying in the dirty alley with his blood slowly seeping out of him into the grimy cracks in the asphalt, he knew he had to get up, to walk somewhere to find help, but he couldn't. His body just didn't want to move, despite his brain's instructions. _Deca, I'm so sorry..._ He couldn't have done things differently, though. Nothing would have changed his mind, not even the knowledge that he was going to his death. Except making him more reckless, since he didn't have anything more to lose anyway, foreknowledge would not have helped. _I'm sorry I have to go..._ Wait, go? Was he _really _considering the thought of his own death as a certainty? He'd long ago accepted the fact that he'd likely die in a very violent way, but to leave Deca after promising he'd return? _I have to try, at least try...for her..._

Trying and actually succeeding while a few knives are sticking out of your back, abdomen and chest are two different stories. In the end, he managed to crawl his way slowly out of the alley and into the warm glow of a streetlight before he couldn't go any further. He was a fighter, and always had been, but even his high tolerance for pain wouldn't save him this time. Nor would his luck, it would seem. _She's finally run out...Chase swore she was going to..._ Too bad his sister had been right. _Please, God, I just want to see Deca's face one more time..._

_"Oh, my God! Are you alright?" He could hear the voice as though through a fog, and he turned his head slowly towards the speaker. He didn't know who it was, but he knew who he wanted it to be. He knew who he wanted to see. Raising one bloody hand, he grabbed the person's shirt sleeve weakly and managed one word before he started losing to quickly to the deep darkness that he been threatening to swallow him up since he'd been injured._

"Deca..."

_Say good bye, _

_Close your eyes,_

_Remember me._

_Walk away, _

_The sun we face,_

_Remember me._

_Winds of change,_

_We can't explain,_

_Remember me._

_I live on somewhere in your heart,_

_You must believe,_

_Remember me._

Despite their magical background, the Battens had a phone and most other normal appliances and such, so Deca got the phone call that nearly made her sick. She'd of course been worried when Connor didn't return home the night before, but that had happened on a few other occasions, and it was usually because he was exhausted and passed out at a co-worker's place for the night. He'd come stumbling in the door in bloodied up clothes and with his hair uncombed and just the way she liked it any minute, and she'd take him up to bed and stay with him while he fell asleep, just like every other time. But no, this _wasn't_ like every other time. Connor wasn't coming home. This time, she had to go to _him_.

"I'll be right there," she said softly before hanging up the telephone. Chase had walked in while she was listening, and it was obvious from the look on her sister-in-law's face that the other woman realized something was wrong. Deca couldn't keep it away from her, and didn't intend to try. She wouldn't cry, though. "Connor's in the hospital. Someone found him outside an alley last night with multiple stab wounds. He almost died, but they think he'll be alright."

Surprisingly, there was no sound of alarm from Chase, nor any signs of sadness, just acceptance and strength. If Chase broke down, Deca would, and she seemed to understand that. She simply grabbed her coat and called her mother to arrange for babysitting for her niece and nephew while Deca sat at the kitchen table in horrified silence. This was Connor, her immortal lover, lying in a hospital bed all alone, after sitting bleeding in the dark all alone. _All alone..._

_You know I'd give my life for you,_

_More than words can say._

_I've shown you how to love someone,_

_I know you'll find the way._

When Deca entered the hospital room, she was greeted by the whirring of the machinery that surrounded her Golden Lover, and the sight of bloodied bandages that would need to be changed again soon. Even drugged asleep, which she figured he was, and in his physical condition, he still looked strong. He still looked as though no matter what happened, he would endure longer than everything in the room. Like he was invincible. _He nearly died, how can he still give off that impression?_ She knew, feeling the way her heart wanted to break as she sat down beside him, that choosing Gabriel instead would have been so much safer. It would have meant she didn't have to worry about her husband not coming home because he was lying in an alley bleeding to death. She'd made the wrong choice when she chose Connor instead, hadn't she? She'd chosen danger and adventure, and here she sat, her heart ready to fall apart the instant he stopped breathing. _Don't make me say goodbye, Connor, please...Goddess, don't take him away from me..._

On the nightstand sat his gold cross and his wedding band, both of which they'd probably had to take off when they brought him in, and she picked them up almost gingerly, as though they would break if she touched them, and she simply held them. She was Wiccan, but she couldn't see any harm in praying to Connor's God to protect him and bring him back to her. She could wanted him back, she didn't care which religion accomplished that. _Please, someone, anyone...don't let him leave me..._

_Say goodbye,_

_Close your eyes,_

_Remember me._

_Walk away, _

_The sun we face,_

_Remember me._

_Be there to,_

_Watch over you,_

_Remember me._

He didn't know how long Deca had sat by his bedside, but he knew that Chase was leaving the room when he opened his eyes very slightly. The sound of the machines he was hooked up to was irritating, but he couldn't really complain without feeling stupid. Hadn't they helped save his life? He smiled weakly at his wife, who was looking down at him with a mixture of delight and sorrow, and all he wanted to do was take away all that would make her sad. But it was him who made her sad.

The sunlight shone down on her jet-black hair, making the two red streaks look like twin rivers of blood, but she was beautiful to him. Sadness, or delight, she was gorgeous, and he could at least try to remove the former from her face.

"Look at the sun," he said in almost a whisper, his punctured lung protesting to the attempt at speech. He didn't care, though. "I told you I'd always watch over you." It was that little game of theirs again, but it made her smile.

_Feel I'm gone, _

_My heart return,_

_Remember me._

_Don't you think of this as the end,_

_I'll come in through your dreams,_

_Remember me._

"I would have remembered you, still dreamed of you, you know," Deca said softly, laying comfortably in his arms when the hospital had finally agreed that he could handle returning home. He'd had to fight with them until he could prove he was capable of dealing with returning to his life, and that was _after_ he evaded their awkward questions about who the dead man was. They didn't need to know about that if his superiors had decided not to mention it.

"I'm glad, but it wasn't the end, and I don't intend on finding that time soon, so you're stuck with me until then." He'd fight to live like he'd never fought before, like he'd fought that night to crawl to a place where someone would help even after he was ready to give up, and only for her.

_Remember me._


End file.
